Eccentric
by Mini Boss Majoring
Summary: Partner piece to Sociopath. The phrase 'mentally unstable' is highly scientific, but Elibe has an easier way of saying it: loon. But hey, some of history's greatest minds were eccentric, so maybe this tactician knows what he's doing... maybe...


Disclaimer: Fail.

A/N: While writing next the few parts of Sociopath, I kept stumbling because I kept thinking of how to utterly ruin the mood with Mark exhibiting wild behavior. So I started this as a way to vent my other version of Mark. Sociopath will always be updated first, but this will follow.

Eccentric

Lyn's Tale

Prologue

A Girl from the Plains

_"There's been speculation as to whether Mark's presence was necessary to stop Nergal. The basic facts point to his traveling with Lyn prevented Nils and Ninian from being captured early on. That bought time for things to unfold and us to undertake our journey. So yes, Mark was necessary. Now please stop talking about him; doing so makes my brain hurt. And by Elimine I beg you not to bring him by here."_

_-Sir Oswin on the Tactician Mark_

Mark's eyes snapped out with alarm and he stared at the ceiling for several moments. Something was wrong. He remained in what he eventually realized was a bed until someone disturbed him.

"Are you awake?"

Standing there was a lovely young woman, with long teal hair in a ponytail and wearing garb that not only seemed to show off her body, but was slit and displayed well toned legs as well. In face of a sudden beauty, Mark opened and closed his mouth a few times before he knew what to say.

The similarly aged man took a deep breath. Then he opened his mouth and said in a polite sweet tone, "I think someone stole my pants. This quite frankly disturbs me a little."

It was not the reaction Lyn was expecting and she took a second to process his first words. Then a blush came to her cheeks. "I uh, removed your pants," she said, aware of the implications.

Mark looked absolutely bewildered. "_Why_?" he blurted out. "Those were _my_ pants! I need those or else my legs will get cold! What am I supposed to do without my _pants_! You don't need pants; you have clothes! Why did you take my pants off?"

Lyn blushed deeper. "You were wounded!" she insisted hastily. "I have to treat a dangerous wound; something had gouged you just below the stomach. Do you remember anything?"

Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword

_"Hey! You!" Mark shouted angrily, pointing with all his might. The rhino turned to see the source of the noise. "What do you think you're doing? That's my tree! _MY_ tree! I'm going to jump from it and fly! Now buzz off before I hit you!"_

_ Agitated by the angry shouting, the rhino charged Mark. Mark charged right back at it. _Ha; stupid rhino,_ Mark thought._ I'll just jump you. And if I can't jump that high, then I'll try again._ He leapt at the charging horn. He didn't make it._

_ As the rhino walked off, wondering as to the stupidity of humans, Lyn stumbled onto the scene. Wary of the yelling she'd heard earlier, she inspected Mark's unmoving body. "A boy!" she cheered and picked him up to bring home._

Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword

"I forgot to try again," Mark said simply. "Well then pants thief, you took off my pants to treat a gouge." He gave her a look as though she'd have been lying.

"My name is Lyn of the Lorca Tribe. And that's the truth," Lyn insisted. _That's it: the whole truth. I wasn't inspired in any way because you're the first boy my age since I was born. I am simply being compassionate._

Mark rubbed his chin. "That rhino was more dastardly than I suspected; he knew my strategy somehow. How foolish of me; I should have dived underneath," he mumbled to himself. Then his eyes widened with alarm. He started to pick up the bed covering but couldn't do it. "Wait! _Wait!_ Lyn of the Lorca, am I intact?"

"Intact?" Lyn repeated, confused.

"Yes! Intact! I wish to see if I remain a man, but I fear to look," Mark explained. "It's a guy thing."

Lyn blushed red again. "I-I didn't look," she stammered. _Very long_.

Mark swallowed nervously and stuck a hand under the blanket before pulling it back out. "What did you see?" he asked. Lyn watched in disbelief as he listened to his hand. Then Mark nodded and glanced under the sheets himself. "Thank heavens; I am intact," he said, pulling his head out. "I would like my pants back, if I may."

Lyn nodded and retrieved them, handing them to him. Mark thought a moment.

"For some reason people object to me when I take my pants off, but since you didn't seem to care, I guess it doesn't matter," Mark started, and swung the blankets off.

A yelp and a slapping sound later, Lyn was covering her eyes with a red blush. _I can't look...welllll, he didn't look like he—Lyn you cad pervert! Get ahold of yourself! He is probably emotionally scarred from his attack! But gosh he is cute._

Mark threw his pants on and Lyn took her hand away. A question bugged her. "Why would you take your pants off?" she asked.

"Because they're on fire, of course!" Mark answered, as though it were a silly question. Lyn supposed that it truly was. "For some reason that happens often. My feet have yet to come up with a solution."

"...Oh," Lyn stated. They stood there for a while in awkward silence. "What's your name?" she asked.

"I am Mark, a tactician," he declared.

"Mark...what an odd sounding name," Lyn mused.

"So is Marth," Mark agreed somberly.

Lyn was saved from her confusion and subtle inspecting by sounds from outside. She frowned and glanced. "Bandits!" she declared, nearly hissing the word. "They must've come down from the mountains...but there's more than I can take. Can you fight, Mark?"

Mark shook his head, and Lyn felt a tinge of anxiety enter her heart. _How can I fight them and win_? But Mark wasn't finished as he threw his robes on and threw his hood over his head. "Don't worry about fighting them and winning," he assured, as though he was reading her mind. "I can take care of this issue; I just need...ah." He took something from her table and headed outside.

The tactician walked straight for the three bandits, confident and imposing. "You there; what do you think you're doing?" he called out chidingly. "Have you paid your toll yet?"

The three bandits traded looks. "Uh, toll?" one of them asked.

"Yes of course the toll! Did you think I meant the poll?" Mark insulted. "You have to pay the toll to raid this place."

"This is dumb; why should we pay a toll?" one of the bandits asked.

"The answer is simple; because that is what is demanded by the laws of nature," Mark said, walking past them. He turned and faced them. "Consider that you are wearing red pants. I am wearing green robes. Both the words green and toll have double lettering while the word red does not. Therefore the toll is mine and you must pay the toll."

"Wha—"

"Secondly, green is alphabetically ahead of red. This places me, green, before you and in charge of the toll. Therefore, you must pay the toll."

"How—"

"Thirdly, you are ugly; I am too. Therefore you must pay the toll."

"Hey!"

"Fourth...ly? Fourth point? 4 to the power of twelve minus a duck? Either way, I was here first. That dictates me proper command of this territory by the right of Tax Law 18237 Article 7. Therefore, I lay a toll, and you must pay the toll."

"..."

"And finally, this is the utmost reason!" Mark shouted, raising up what he had taken from Lyn.

The three bandits stared, their jaws dropped. Mark was holding forth a melon.

"What does—" one of the bandits started, but was stopped when Mark slapped him.

"Do not interrupt the melon when it's talking!" he ordered.

The bandit rubbed his cheek. "This is madness; let's kill this fool," he grunted. He turned to see his two buddies dead. "What?"

While Mark had been debating, Lyn had decided to save his skin and kill two of the bandits from behind. The final bandit turned towards Lyn and brandished his ax as she backed away.

"What? You think you can take Batta the Beast, she-devil?" he howled.

Lyn waved her hand in front of her nose. _Why can't he be Brushes his Teeth? His breath is horrible_. She tried to ignore the stench as Batta attacked her. She struck first, clipping his arm, but Batta struck harder. He sliced her leg vertically, causing Lyn to cry out in pain and nearly fall over.

Batta laughed at the wounded swordswoman. "Now you die!" he declared, raising his ax.

Mark leapt into the air. "Fear the melon!" he shouted, and chucked the fruit at Batta's head. It hit but didn't break, knocking Batta sideways.

"What the—agh!" Batta yelled. Lyn had lunged forward and stabbed him when he wasn't looking. She sighed and lay down, trying to ignore the throbbing in her thigh.

Mark walked over and looked down at her. "You owe the melon," he stated. "And the toll."

She couldn't help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of his statement. Mark continued.

"Thanks for attacking them, though. I was running out of points to keep them distracted," Mark thanked.

Lyn gave him a surprised look. "You mean you were doing that on purpose?"

"Of course! I'm a tactician! It was a simply strategy, although the melon helped point the idea out to me."

"You... sound kind of mad."

"I'm not mad; just eccentric! They were the crazy ones! I at least put all my clothes on before doing a task; they came half dressed! And don't tell me they didn't have the ability; I came out dressed properly even you took me pants off."

A blush crept up Mark's face at his unknowing innuendo, and she shift to hide it. However, doing so reminded her of her injured thigh. "My leg is in bad shape; can you help me out?" she asked, holding up a hand. However, Mark looked disconcerted by her words.

"You're kind of pretty, but if you really want me to amputate your leg..."

"No! No, I just need help getting up."

"Oh; why didn't I think of that?" Mark wondered as he helped her to her feet. Lyn hung onto him for support, closer to a boy than she'd been in a long time. Together they walked back to her tent.

Lyn swallowed nervously. "Mark? Do you... really find me pretty?" Lyn asked shyly.

"Sure," Mark agreed, zoning out. Internally, Lyn squealed. They reached her tent and Lyn sat down on the bedding, reaching for a vulnerary to heal her wound. Suddenly Mark's face went white and he looked outside. "Oh shoot! I forgot the melon!"

In a flash he was gone. Lyn started to bandage up her wound. She thought about it for a moment, and then left the bandages unfinished. Mark eventually returned, holding the melon with both hands as though it were made of gold.

Lyn brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "Mark, do you think you could help me finish?"

Mark thought a second.

Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword

_"Help me, please."_

_ "What do you want of me, old woman?"_

_ "I was out and I was struck across the neck by something; I fear it's still bleeding."_

_ "Hm... it is. What do you know?"_

_ "Please help me take care of it!"_

_ "Oh, sure! We just take some bandages and wrap them around, and now we tighten them...funny, the more I tighten, the more space there seems to be...there we go! Completely tight! Now we tie it off and—hey! You can fall asleep when I helping you! Cause it makes me sleepy! Of all the rude things to do..."_

Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword

"Sure," Mark agreed cheerfully. He knelt down and finished tying the bandages off; Lyn felt goosebumps when his fingers once brushed against her skin. Mark finished bandaging Lyn's leg without any trouble. He stood up and cleared his throat. "Now then, how about some time alone?" he asked.

Lyn felt her face flush. "I'd, that'd be nice," she said, spitting the words out.

"All right; that gives me some time to take care of some business too," Mark said. He wandered out of the tent, leaving a confused Lyn. "If you do get lonely, the melon will talk with you!"

Then she couldn't hear his footsteps anymore. Lyn sighed to herself and leaned on the table, finding herself making eye contact with the melon. _I'd kind of been hoping he meant we could be alone...more than we are...And now here I am, thinking after a boy whose head isn't screwed on tight. At least he's cute._

Fire Emblem: Blazing Sword

Mark ran around the plains wildly, his eyes twitching. He had to keep grabbing himself, and he didn't know how much longer he could hold. "Where's a bathroom?" he shouted out.


End file.
